


Run With Me

by Cerberos



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bickering and Banter, Did I mention fluff?, Falling In Love, Fluff, Getting Together, Hugs, M/M, Pining, casual touches, cavity inducing fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-24 14:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13215378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerberos/pseuds/Cerberos
Summary: Seijuro, a heartbroken tycoon wandering aimlessly, meets Kouki, a bubbly ball of fluff who plans to elope with his lover, and gets inevitably tangled into a web of love and craziness.





	Run With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eof](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eof/gifts).



> This was not the fic I intended for my sweetheart Eof but what I had initially planned to write (almost two birthdays ago, yikes, OTL) never materialised and I am trying - very hard! very badly! - to make amends with this sugarfest! So, Eof, please accept this paltry offering as a thank you for being one of the most important people in my life!

“Hi! Um, hello? Where are you headed? Is this seat yours? The one you are sitting on is mine, but no pressure! I can sit here. Do you mind if I sit here? I can move when you are comfortable!.......I am travelling back to family home, you see. Everybody has a family; I, too, have one. Back in  _Kyoto_. Tokyo is not very popular for them, you know what I mean? They think its too crowded. I am like,  _what?_  Crowd is made up of people like us, right? Right!....

“......I  _love_  Tokyo! Its so wonderful and alive and full of possibilities!! Did you know when I came here?..........I  _hate_  living alone. It drives me crazy! There were so many people I shared my rooms with and neighbours who were so nice! The old woman next door always used to force me to have lunch with her, said she didn’t want to see me a walking bag of bones, ha ha! As  _if!_  You would think I don’t eat much but I  _do!_  I can pack a lot in!......”

Seijuro stares in abject horror as the guy seated opposite drones on and on, showing no sign of stopping. The train rattles by on the tracks, the view outside the window is marred by nighttime.  

Soft amber overhead lights light up the compartments, the chamber in which he sits is empty except for the two of them but Seijuro thinks that is more than enough. ‘Chatterbox’ hasn’t stopped, busy rummaging through the truckload of baggage he has with him, paying no attention to whether he  _wants_  to be listened to or not. 

“I studied Fine Arts and Literature in college, what did you study? You look pretty well educated! Did you go to Tokyo University or some such elite college? I don’t think education is all that good and worth the money we pay, you know what I’m saying? You just need to know the craft and how to survive in it and they  _don’t_  teach that in school these days. Look at me talking like I am a hundred years old! I know  _I know_  I look very young but I have my Masters, you know? I am a pretty brilliant student too!......

“.....And that’s where I met  _him!_  Ahh _hhhhhh!_  It was love at first sight for me! My  _Shougo!_  We went on this date to.........I am going to marry him, in fact  _that’s why_  I am going home right now. To tell them I am okay and doing great alone in Tokyo, you know, for reassurances and all that because  _parents, duh_. Then, I am going to run off to his place and we will marry and live  _happily ever after!_  They say there is no happily ever after but I don’t believe that at all. I think there is a happily ever after for everyone, you know? You just need to find it and work hard to hold on to it.....

“...My family wont accept Shougo; he is Middle Class according to them, as if I am marrying for his money or something. Parents are weird like that, I think. I don’t know how that factors in because I fell for his personality and I am going to live with that personality not with his money obviously but they wouldn’t think of it that way. But if I am married already,  _what can they say?!_  They would have to  _accept_ him too then, so it all works out great for everybody!.....”

Seijuro closes his eyes, lets his head fall on the headrest and takes a deep breath, tuning out everything but the calming  _chug chug_  of the train. Another two hours left before they could reach Kyoto but he was going to start screaming if he listens to anymore of this nonsense. Or weep. He cant say for sure and doesn’t want to find out.  

He stands up and walks out of the chamber.

“Hey, where are you going? Oh, bathroom? Do you want me to come with-”

“ _No._ ” 

Seijuro walks as fast as he deems appropriate to the empty corridor near the toilets. He has no need to use one, but any more of that mindlessly boring crap from the brunet, he will be forced to spend the journey shut inside one of them. He didn’t think anyone in the world could talk  _this_  much. He hasn’t met anyone like that before in his life and he thanks the stars that he wont in the future, after this blasted journey. 

Not that he  _has_  a future, strictly speaking. Maybe one time, a long time ago. Everything was destined and everything set in stone for him. Not now. Not anymore, anyway. 

He slumps against the wall, and catches sight of himself at the dirty mirror hoisted above the dirtier sink.

His hair is as red and unruly as ever, like blood, he muses. Blood and fire and everything in between. His mother had hair like that. Long, flowing and wild. He finds himself transported back to the time in the gardens when he was just four or five and her running with him, carefully exaggerated steps to make sure he stayed first and she was losing in the race. 

She would playfully shake her fist at him and tell him he was too strong and she was too weak and Seijuro would best her at the race, his eyes shining with victory. The wind would pick up and her hair would fly all over her face and when she conceded defeat gallantly, laughing all the while, she would pick him up and twirl him high in the air. He remembered he used to pull the strands in his tiny fists, watching in fascination as it slipped between his stubby fingers like a fire that was silky to touch.

The train whistles sharply, pulling him forcefully out of the memory. He sniffs and wipes his nose on his sleeve and rubs his eyes, trying to wipe out the sting and glances again at the mirror. His mouth curves in disgust at what he sees; his shoulders are slumped and heavier than they look, his face is thinner and his cheeks have started to hollow, he hasn’t shaved in three days and his whole jaw itches but he barely restrains himself from scratching it raw. The worst are his eyes, the dark circles have nearly sunk them back into his skull and they look........ _dull_. They used to shine with confidence but now it takes sheer strength just to get them interested to  _look_ at something. Lifeless like the rest of him.  

At least his clothes are alright. That’s something, he supposes. He strains to straighten his shoulders a little, but its of no use. Little by little the pressure had built up, like a mountain above his shoulders and ultimately the weight had become too much, crushing him and making him suffocate. There was a time when he could carry all the weight of the world as if it was effortless, but that Akashi Seijuro was gone. The Akashi name lost all meaning to him. 

He is just Seijuro now.

A man with no identity, no past, no future, no life to live for.

He is jerked back into reality by the train stopping. The doors open to an unknown, obscure, transit station that is lit by a lone lamppost. He blinks into the darkness beyond and finds nothing, the station looks as depressing and lonely as it sounds. He waits a beat before shrugging and gets off the train. At least this gets him away from the chatterbox inside, he reasons.  

He trudges over to the rickety bench under the lamppost and takes off his coat. Its nearly winter and there is a definite chill in the air but his three-piece suit is stifling. He loosens the tie, plonking himself on the frozen seat and lets out a relieved sigh as he stretches his legs. He rubs his face, stifling a yawn and vaguely wonders whether the brunet stopped talking or continued on to himself.

It must have been a really weird dream because he finds himself staring up at a familiar but irritated brunet just inches away from his. Seijuro gapes, barely hearing what he was yelling. “Why did you get off?! Come on! The train is leaving! They are announcing the doors closing!  _Get up!_ We need to hurry!” The brunet pulls his arm and tugs, trying to get him to move off the bench.

He snaps. “What are you doing? Let go of me, I don’t-I  _don’t_  want to go!” He shakes the brunet off him and shouts, “ _Leave me alone!_ ”

The brunet stumbles and glares at him before suddenly remembering; he curses as the doors start to close, “Fine! Be that way!” He sprints after the train, trying and failing to catch up as it revs up its speed, “Oh no! Oh no no! Nononono _noohmygod_ _somebodypullthechain!_ ” The train chugs away, ignoring him and his mounting horror and the station becomes silent again. 

Seijuro watches as his initial shock fades into something resembling pity as the brunet gapes at the empty tracks, disbelieving expression on his face. He looks back at Seijuro and back at the tracks and back again, his mouth closing and opening like a fish, and his arms flailing helplessly, “It’s gon-the trai-it was righ her-my things-what the-how? How in the-? Wha-?”

Seijuro thinks he should speak but it takes approximately less than three seconds before the brunet turns and strides towards him and directs a venomous glare at Seijuro. ” _You._ You  _absolute idiot!_  It’s all because of  _you!_  Why couldn’t you stay in the train? What made you get off here at this graveyard platform? There isn’t even a proper  _chair here!_  Why the hell did you take such a long time to pee anyway? Weren’t the bathrooms there enough for  _your Majesty?”_

Seijuro stands, crowding his space and frowns at the fuming brunet, “Excuse me. Did I say which station I was going to? Did I ask you for anything?” He hisses, crossing his arms, “Why were you following me? What business is it of yours what I do?”

“Oh, ex- _fucking_ -cuse me. its all  _my_  fault?” He shrieks, eyes blazing fire, as he refuses to move, standing nose to nose with Seijuro, “ _Following_ you? I just got off the train for you and you should be  _thanking_  me instead you are showing me  _attitude?!_  The utter  _gall_  of some people in this world, I say!”

“Okay.  _Thank you_. Thank you for the completely  _unsolicited_ help.” Seijuro grits his teeth, feeling nothing thankful, “Now, please leave me alone.”

_“Leave you alone?”_  The guy is just a scant inch shorter than him but for someone with that height he is awfully full of anger,  _screeching_  like that, messy chestnut hair ruffled, outrage screaming through his hazel eyes, shooting sparks of fury, “I am  _not_  leaving you alone, mister. You can kiss your angsty lone wolf scene  _good-fucking-bye_. All my things are on  _that_ train, I am here at  _god-knows-what_  station with  _no_ money and  _no_ way of getting back my stuff and  _you_.” He hisses, pushing one forefinger hard into Seijuro’s chest, as if the proximity wasn’t close enough, “You,  _the fault of all this nightmare_ , are going to get them back and drop me at my home in the care of my parents,  _yessiree!_  I will not leave you alone until then! Don’t even  _think_  of getting away from me!”

Seijuro stares, trying hard not to let his jaw drop at the angry tirade. The guy stares back furiously, eyes narrowed and chin jutting out defiantly, daring Seijuro to oppose him. 

He thinks of all the protests and escape routes his mind hatches, dismissing every one of them when he catches sight of the steely glint in the brunet’s eyes and reluctantly comes to the conclusion that the fastest way to get rid of him is to agree with whatever nonsense he was spouting. 

Seijuro nods, sighing magnanimously, “Let’s get moving then.”

*

“Where  _are_  we going? We need to find a place to stay the night, you know, you can’t just wander around like that. I have to reach home soon. They would be expecting me and I don’t even have my phone to tell them I am arriving only tomorrow.” He mumbles and tugs a lock of his hair that has become too long, glancing at Seijuro every now and then as they walk together through the badly lit streets in the dead of the night. 

The silence buzzes around them menacingly and his voice, though no more than a whisper, sounds loud. “Good thing the station master was available, right? I can’t believe that was a legit platform. It didn’t look like it at all. I honestly don’t know  _what_  I would have done if my things were gone for good.” He shoots a glare, not very effective at all, at Seijuro, trying to see if this at least gets a reaction from his studiously silent companion. “Hopefully nothing will be missing when I - sorry, sorry -when _we_  pick them up from the Kyoto station. That reminds me! Why don’t you have any bags? What were you doing getting down here? What’s there to see? Have you eaten dinner? You don’t look like you’ve eaten. Oh! Did you get down to buy food?”

Seijuro sighs for god-knows-how-many-times-today and mutters at the sky above, “What am I _doing_ here? Why god _why?_ Why make me suffer with this freak?”

“ _Excuse_ me? Freak? You mean, _me?_ ” He sounds amused instead of offended, “Me? Instead of _you?_ The one with the ‘Angry Young Man’ scene shooting Tough Looks all the time? You look like you are auditioning for a guy who had a terribly weepy backstory and is on the brink of becoming a super villain or something. I hope it is the case, because if so, I am pretty sure you nailed it.” He latches on to the absurd idea, grinning at Seijuro as if he had discovered a secret, “Is it? Is that it? Are you-ahh what do they call it? Damn it, I _know_ that one! Hold on. Ahh...uhmmm! Yes! Memo-no! _Method_ actor! Are you? No? What _is_ your problem, anyway? Tell me, no?” He nudges his shoulder against Seijuro’s and huffs in frustration when Seijuro continues to ignore him. 

His lips quirk up at the ends not even a few seconds after and Seijuro is struck with the realisation that he has never known anyone in the world with mood swings as fast as this brunet. It is baffling and worrying and yet strangely fascinating. The more time he spends with this chirpy brunet the more he finds himself struggling to maintain his aloof facade. He continues in his teasing tone oblivious to Seijuro’s inner dilemma, “Sorry sorry sorry. You don’t share your problems with _anyone._ Riiiiiiiight. That’s part of the act, isn’t it? How much do they pay for it? How long are you gonna keep it up?”

“Very funny. Its all quite dandy isn’t it? We are on a picnic, is it?” Seijuro gives in to the tease, pushing his hands in his pockets, willingly breaking his resolution to not rise to the bait. “You know, you should be put in a _museum_. They should sell tickets to make people see the wonder that is you. With the attention span of a gnat, the mouth that never stops, the amount of anger packed inside this tiny body, you could shock the _world._ Do you talk in your sleep, as well?”

“Aha! So you _can_ talk like a normal person! I knew you had it in you,” The brunet wipes a fake tear with his sleeve and turns those bright eyes to Seijuro and grins wide, batting his eyelashes with exaggerated coyness, “Aw, jeez _thank_ you. Your sarcasm is much appreciated. Don’t you dare call _me_ ‘tiny’ when you are not so hot yourself! And if we are talking weird specimens, what about you? Mr.”I get on a train not knowing where it goes, I get off on some unknown station, endangering the life of a fellow passenger, and now roam the streets of some godforsaken town in the dead of the night like a deranged vampire”. Oh _god_ man. What  _could_  be your problem that is so serious, hmm? Still on the no-telling streak? Damn.”  

He looks pensive for a moment before brightening up suddenly and Seijuro is quite frankly, intrigued. The brunet had done a remarkable job so far in shattering his self-induced lonely atmosphere with inane chatter that had changed phases from bothering to mildly amusing to interesting. It said something about Seijuro if he was _actively_ looking forward to what the brunet was going to come up with to talk about. 

“Oooh! Let me guess! I am good at this stuff! You are an _assassin_ , aren’t you? Killed one of your own team or your employer’s wife during a fight in a single moment of inattention and now you have to hide from the law _and_ your gang, right?” Seijuro has the impulsive urge to laugh and bites his cheek to hold it in. But by the beaming look on the brunet’s face, he knows he hasn’t fully managed it. “Or, wait _no!_ You look a bit  _too_ posh and classy for that. Wait! You are gay and your father found out and disowned you!” Seijuro freezes slightly, all the laughter stilling in him and he forces himself to not react nor give away an inkling on what he is feeling. 

The brunet continues, albeit softly, and Seijuro notes dully that the brunet is overly sensitive to what others are feeling, despite the lightness of his jabber. Either that or Seijuro has lost his years of instilled poker face etiquette. “Is that it? Ugh, man I feel you. I am gay too but my family....they are awesome about it. Took them some time, obviously, but they came around when my grandfather had one of those Talks with them. Five minutes and that’s it, I am back into the fold like I never left. Great man, my grandfather. I am his favourite, you know? Not my brother or my cousins, _me!_ ” The proud tilt of his smile is unmistakable even in the bad street light.  

He nudges Seijuro’s shoulder again gently, and with an slow, careful smile, says, “You know what? When you drop me home, I could introduce you to my family! They will like you, your posh face and clothes and posture and all. I can _guarantee_ my mother will pull you into the dining room within five seconds of meeting you. You need proper seeing to by the looks of it and you look like you are going to murder someone, what with your hair that red. Where did you get it done? Even the roots are done nicely!....” 

Seijuro starts walking faster and pulls the brunet along to love hotel he had managed to find. The city around is still in its slumber but the bright lights of the love hotel glitter in the darkness like a beacon. It looks as shady as it sounds but to spend the night till the bus in the morning, it would suffice. He pushes open the door, surprised that the brunet had stopped talking. 

Seijuro slams his hand on the counter, waking the receptionist from his daydream, “Two rooms. One night, please.”

“Why two rooms?” The brunet pipes up next to him, a scandalised expression on his face, “We don’t need _two_ rooms.”

Seijuro takes a calming breath, praying for patience. The receptionist, clearly very much awake, is openly sizing up the brunet, an appraising gleam in his eyes that Seijuro has the sudden urge to wipe off. “Listen, let _me_ do the talking-”

“Your talking is wasting your money. You don’t have much anyway.” He hisses in his ear, placing a hand on Seijuro’s wallet. He turns to the receptionist and smiles brightly, “We don’t need two rooms and we _certainly_ don’t need the whole night. Let’s stay for .....two hours?” He asks Seijuro, “Two hours would be enough, right?”

Seijuro looks disbelievingly at the brunet as he shakes his head, and tries again, “I have enough money for the night, let’s not-this is a lov-you and I cant-”

“Bull _shit_. We need that for the bus, we can’t go by train because my pass is with my things and we have the whole trip left. You can’t just squander money, you know. You need to start saving now that you are disowned.”

“I am _not!_ You don’t understand what this guy here is think- _argh._   _Fine_. Have it your way.” Seijuro turns to the receptionist. “One room please.”

“Hour on the hour, sir?” The receptionist leers at him, purple tinted lips stretched over yellow teeth, “ _Two_ , was it?”

Seijuro and the brunet look at each other and the brunet reconsiders, “Three? Three would be _more than enough_ to collect my stuff and go to the bus stop, right? But, we don’t have much to do for three full hours-”

“ _Three_ , please. Do you accept card?”

“Oh my oh my, wherever did you find him?” The receptionist whispers to Seijuro as he swipes the card. The brunet is busy tinkering with the knick-knacks on the counter a bit farther away from them, “He certainly seems..... _feisty_ , if you know what I mean.” He waggles his eyebrows for unnecessary emphasis.

Seijuro glances at the brunet as he leans slightly over the counter and whispers back, “He does, doesn’t he?”

“Oh _yes_ , definitely! You are not bad yourself, but  _him._....” The receptionist takes a shuddering breath as he licks his lips, darkening the purple tint. And Seijuro once again has the sudden urge to punch _some_ thing. Or take the brunet far away from here. “Where did you pick him up?”

“On the train.”

“ _Train?!_ They have started it on trains now?” He leans back, considering thoughtfully, “Idea seems interesting.....”

Seijuro winks, pasting his best fake smile on, “Three hours.”

The smile widens on the receptionist’s face, practically predatory, “ _Three_ hours.  _Enjoy~_ ”   

He chuckles and shakes his head as he enters the room, glad to relieved of his company, only to face an angry ball of energy, “What were you prattling about like a couple of gossipy high school girls?”

“Nothing.” Seijuro shrugs, shutting the door behind him, “He seems to have the wrong idea and I didn’t bother correcting him.”

“Well, just so  _you_  don’t have the wrong idea, I know Karate.” And with that, the brunet jumps up onto the bed, holding his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them like a protective cocoon.

Seijuro blinks. “That’s wildly unspecific, even for  _you_. Care to explain?”

“I am just telling you. I know Karate. I have a Brown Belt.” He juts his chin out proudly, his messy hair flopping around him for effect. His eyes glint threateningly and Seijuro mentally takes a step back. 

“Wait. Wrong ide-hold on. Oh.  _Oh_.” Seijuro chuckles, at ease once again. He holds up his hand in an effort to placate, “Don’t worry. I am not going to force myself on you.”

“I am saying you couldn’t, even if you wanted to.”

“Wait, are you baiting me so that I _try_ to take advantage of you and you can then prove to me you know Karate.”

“Who knows. You look the type anyway.”

“And pray tell me, what type is that?”

“The rich playboy type who gets anyone he wants.” He rolls his eyes, watching as Seijuro raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms over his chest, “Oh please, no need to act offended. Let me tell you one thing, though; I am not one to be impressed by all that, you know? I am a one-man type. I have my Shougo. Unlike you.”

“Excuse _me_ , for the record, even though I have _nothing_ to prove to you, I am a one-man type too, alright? Here.” He rummages through his wallet to pick out a faded photograph of him and Chihiro, standing in Akihabara surrounded by bookstores and anime posters. It seemed like ages ago, instead of just three months ago. His hand trembles slightly as he holds the picture but he doesn’t look at it. He can’t bear to look at it. Not then, not now. It’s the only thing left of _theirs_ and he should have let go....but. But.  

The brunet pounces on it with glee, “Ahhhhh _showmeshowmeshowme!_ Oh wow! He is _so_ cute!” He peeks up at Seijuro, who strives to get his blank face back and fails, and says very nonchalantly, “You know, you are not so bad at all. Very handsome, if I say so myself. I like you better in this picture than the real you, though.”

That chokes a laugh out of him, “Thank you.” Seijuro attempts to get back the photo when the brunet jumps out of reach, a glint in his eye that sets Seijuro immediately on alert. “Give that back. Please.”

“Wait wait wait, is _he_ the reason you are being insufferable right now?” He prances back to the bed and flops on it, scrutinising the photo closely before Seijuro snatches it from him, “Hey! I was seeing that!”

“ _Don’t_.”

Silence reigns for more than a few seconds that leaves Seijuro unsettled. Somehow in the span of a few hours, he has come to understand that silences are more dangerous than the incessant chatter from the brunet. He willingly chooses to break it this time, wondering what the hell went wrong with the universe to put him in this predicament. “What.”

The brunet was watching him, scanning him. Seijuro’s unsettled feeling strengthens with added wariness. “He dumped you.” He was never one to mince words, Seijuro reckons, failing to suppress a wince. That used to be a quality he liked among his peers. He doesn’t seem think so now. And thinking about his peers brought a strange choking lump in his throat. “So what. You dump him back.”

Seijuro snaps back from the memory, “What?”

“Well, I am assuming you deleted all his pictures from your phone and contact and etc etc and you have only _this_  photo left in your wallet for whatever purposes, but! This is baggage in and of itself! You don’t need this.” He inches closer, eyes glittering with determination and Seijuro can practically _see_ the cogs whirring in his brain as the idea takes hold. He has never feared another human more in his life as he fears this guy right now. “You take this picture, light it up and flush it out! Come on!”

“ _What?!_ ”

“He dumped you. Burn him! Get him off your life! Come on!”

“Wha-That doesn’t even make-Why are you alway-I am not going- _Are you out of your goddamn mind?!_ ”

“Is it childish? Yes. Is it petty? _Yes.”_ The brunet is nearly jumping beside him, and Seijuro is totally and completely mad for going along with this, “ _Trust_ me, it will feel good! Really good. Just go, light it up!” 

Seijuro wonders whether the night can get any weirder and does not chance it. He fears it might, his company is sure to give fate a run for its money. He holds the picture above one of the scented candles lit around the room and watches as the flames taste and lick up the photo, consuming it. He sees Chihiro’s face distort as the fire mars it, blackening it and reducing it to ash. 

The brunet, supposedly his new self appointed therapist, pokes him gently, “Now go. Flush him in the bathroom. Flush him out of your life! For _ever!_ ”

He does as he is told, knowing not to question the wisdom of Brunets of Kyoto with sparkling hazel eyes and weird beliefs. He flushes the photo out, feeling strangely disoriented as he comes out of the bathroom.

The brunet is skipping on his toes, giddy with glee, standing outside waiting for him, “How do you feel, Angry Young Man?”

Seijuro pushes his hands in his pockets and takes a deep breath before answering. He meets the hazel eyes squarely, knowing that the guy knows _exactly_ how he feels and knowing that he is going to fodder the ego, “Not angry at all. You know what. I _actually_ feel good. Thank you.” He even gives a mock bow.

The smugness rolls off in waves from the brunet as he bows very graciously, far more realistically, “You are welcome, your Majesty.”

“Thank you....ah”

“Oh shit, yes. _Hi!_ I am Furihata Kouki. Call me Kouki though. There are _way_ too many Furihatas in this world.”

Seijuro takes his hand, smiling widely at Kouki, His grip is sure and strong and Seijuro feels like holding it for a bit longer. “Seijuro. Just Seijuro. I digress, there could _never_ be another Furihata like you.”

“Well yes, _obviously_. I am unique. Alright,  _Just_  Seijuro. That sounds like a pretty fancy name.” He muses, sizing Seijuro up and down, waggling his eyebrows playfully, “You  _look_  pretty rich too. Very handsome, still.”

Seijuro laughs, lighter than he has felt in a long time, “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I was afraid you were just after my money.”

Kouki gasps dramatically, his eyes dancing, “How _dare_ you sully my stellar character, my good sir. Though I have to admit, your wallet seems very tempting.”

“Ah. Good to know your true intentions. Excuse me while I put my wallet inside my underwear. Just in case. Security reasons, you know. Nothing personal.” 

“Oh shush you. You know what? You can go date someone you really like now that your dad disowned you. You don’t have to worry whether they are in it for the money anymore! Argh, I wish I had met you before I met Shougo. Who knows, maybe  _I_ would have fallen for _you!_ Just  _imagine!_ ” He awes at Seijuro, wonder stuck by the possibility of a supposed ‘them’.

“Wait, no, my father didn’t- _ahhh_ forget it.” Seijuro rubs his face with his palms and presses the heels to his eyes. He is exhausted and shaken off balance by the adventurous night but given everything else, the company hadn’t been that bad. Kouki was a one-man show, you just get swallowed by his energy sooner or later. He hopes Kouki’s family isn’t like that. One was more than enough. He smiles at the pesky brunet who managed to break down all his walls. “You love yourself a lot, don’t you?”

“Yes! _Extremely!_ ” Kouki hugs himself, “I am my _favourite_ person in the world.”

“Mhm.” It surprises Seijuro, how a person can love themselves. To this extent. He thinks there is something wrong with him for not liking his own. “And what were you saying before? Imagine if _you_ fell for _me?_  Oh god. I would have to tear my ears out just to get some peace and quiet.”

He snickers as Kouki punches his shoulder, “Oh ha ha. You should consider yourself _very_ lucky if someone like me fell for you.”

“Not  _someone_  like you, Kouki. Just you.” Seijuro recovers, looking fondly at him, “You are.....definitely an  _original_  piece. They broke the mold after they made you.”

“Aww, that’s the _sweetest_ thing you have said to me!” Kouki smiles cheekily at him, brushing off the compliment in his stride, but Seijuro notices the two spots of pink dusting high on his cheekbones, “Okay come on. I think our three hours should be over. Buses would start running soon. Let’s get out of this place. It’s giving me the creeps. Did you see the look on that guy’s face when he gave us the keys?...”

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to klainenific for being an awesome person and an amazing reader. I had finished this in one stretch on New Year's Eve but spent dayyyyyys without editing it and was thinking about deleting it for a better gift for Eof, when your message came. Thank you so much my friend, if it weren't for you and your kind words this fic wouldn't have been published.  
> Changed the name of the work to suit the premise better. Will be updated soon.


End file.
